The Sheikh and the Servant (13 page)

“I enjoy sleeping… sharing a pallet with you, Master. I find that your warmth and the rhythm of your breath comfort me,” Noori admitted, blushing faintly as they approached Shahin’s tent.

Shahin raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment, seeing as how he actually agreed, not that he would admit it, not now. Instead, he led the way into the tent, nodding to Numair, who stood outside.

Noori nodded as well, stepping into the darkness of the tent and asking, “Shall I clean your robes, my lord?” Shahin stopped in the sliver of moonlight that slid through the tent flap and moved his hands to the ties on his tunic. Noori’s hands slid over the coarse fabric, finding Shahin’s at the ties. “May I?”

Shahin usually just raised his arms, not thinking anything about Noori’s assistance. But tonight, he paused, feeling the warmth of Noori’s hands on his in the near dark. He drew in a slow, unsteady breath as heat flooded into him.

Noori noticed the pause, and he looked up into dark eyes. “My lord?”

Watching Noori silently, Shahin slowly slid his fingers against his hand, feeling the warm flesh, a light, testing caress. It was not at all erotic, but for the fact that Shahin initiated the touch, which was not at all impersonal. Noori didn’t move at all; he merely watched Shahin as Shahin studied him in the dimmest of light.

Not moving anything else, Shahin pressed his knuckles lightly against Noori’s palm, lightly stroking. The moment was quiet, but Shahin could hear his own heartbeat thundering. What was he hoping for? He did not know. But for now, just to touch seemed important. Entranced by the slow slide of flesh, Shahin continued to lightly caress Noori’s palm and fingers with his right hand, feeling the soft skin against his own calluses, the shorter fingers against his own bony appendages.

Shahin felt his face flush as Noori shifted closer, not quite touching, but so close. He could feel warmth rising from Noori’s skin, but still he only touched Noori’s palm. He heard Noori inhale deeply and hoped it meant the other man was as affected as he. Shahin’s gut clenched, and he wanted so much to hold Noori in his arms. Then Noori lowered his head, closed his eyes, and stepped forward, so close to Shahin that their chests touched.

Inhaling sharply, Shahin’s chin grazed along Noori’s temple. He slowly raised his free hand and slid it around Noori’s waist, inching, giving him every opportunity to move away. He slid his fingers through Noori’s, clasping their hands together as he shifted his weight toward him, finally completing the embrace with a shaky sigh.

Shahin felt a burst of happiness as Noori’s fingers tightened around his, and they swayed slightly. Noori’s free hand slid near the fastenings of Shahin’s robe, and he moved it to rest on Shahin’s shoulder. His breathing sped up, and he trembled slightly at the contact.

His heart calming, Shahin’s arm tightened around Noori’s waist slightly, enough to bring him into full contact along his body. He settled his chin just over Noori’s ear, moving his head to rub against Noori’s temple gently. His fingers closed tighter in response to Noori’s actions, and he swallowed, feeling a wave of peace sweep through him.

Noori slowly reached up, pushing both of their turbans from their heads, allowing Shahin’s cheek closer contact with his own hair. With the wrapped fabric out of the way, Shahin began rubbing slowly, his whiskered chin moving against Noori’s ear.

He did not want to move away, Shahin realized. He just wanted to hold Noori close and gain comfort from it. A soft sigh of contentment escaped him.

After some time, Noori pushed them both toward the pallet, his fingers pulling free long enough to untie Shahin’s robes. “Rest with me tonight, my lord.”

Letting Noori have his way, Shahin stepped backward and raised his arms to be free of the tunic, although he immediately missed holding Noori. He hoped the comment meant Noori would be back in his arms for the night.

Noori removed all but his trousers, and then helped Shahin from his clothes as well. At last, he knelt on the pillows, holding out a hand in invitation. Eyes adjusted to the dark, Shahin watched Noori move gracefully onto the pallet. He sank down next to him, closing his hand about Noori’s to pull him down into the pillows as well. He wanted to hold him close, knowing fully that Noori chose to be there of his free will. This much, this innocent embrace, Shahin could accept.

Once they settled on the pallet, Noori cuddled close, resuming the position of embrace they had shared earlier as they stood together. Shahin thankfully closed his arms about him, drawing in a long, relaxing breath. He felt the last of the tension leave him. “I rest better when you are close,” he admitted softly, with no preamble.

“As do I,” Noori admitted quietly. “I do not ever wish to sleep apart from you.”

In the darkness, Shahin’s lips tilted up into a smile. “Your wish is my command,” he rumbled as he felt another spark flare in his chest.

“Then it will be so, if you command it.”

Shahin sighed. “I will not command it,” he said softly. “But I would cede to your wish in this.”

Noori chuckled in the darkness. “But you said my wish was your command. I wish it so.”

Shahin was silent as he realized he’d been outwitted. He chuckled aloud in resignation and sighed. He was quiet for a long minute before he spoke ever so softly. “Very well.”

“You only ever need tell me if you wish privacy or the comfort of someone’s company,” Noori whispered into the silence. “I do not wish to put you out.”

Shahin’s arms tightened about him in nonverbal response. He did not want to address that topic at all. Not now. Not ever, if he could manage it. Eyes growing heavy, Shahin sighed contentedly as warmth and lassitude spread through him. Mostly asleep, he spoke aloud, he murmured, “You belong here.”

He did not hear the “I do” Noori whispered in reply.

Chapter 13

Noori
rushed through the village, heart pounding as he hurried to find the sheikh. At last, he burst through the tent flap of the official pavilion. “The amir, my lord! He is come!”

Shahin’s head turned up from where he looked over papers, his spectacles perched on his nose. “Qutaibah here?” He frowned deeply and stood, moving to strap on his sword. “How many ride with him?”

“A band of four others, my lord. He is on the outskirts of the village.” Noori braced himself against the center support pole of the tent, hand on his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

Shahin relaxed a little, stopping next to the servant. “Numair is on watch. All will be well,” he said quietly, stopping to lay a hand on Noori’s shoulder.

The simple touch soothed Noori. “Must I remain here, my lord? May I go help Karam in the stores?”

Shahin’s eyes softened, and he nodded. “Have dinner with Mother. She will be pleased to visit with you.” His hand tightened. “I do not want Qutaibah to see you. Some things Sadiq has said….” Shahin frowned, obviously unsettled.

Noori nodded, moving to pull on his formal robes and turban. At last, he stopped near Shahin once more. “You will not let him take me back, will you?”

Blinking in surprise, Shahin froze for a moment, and then he pulled Noori fully into his arms, holding him tight. “You belong here,” he whispered harshly.

Noori held tight to Shahin, both amazed and reassured by the unprecedented display, for several long moments before pulling away. “I will go see Mother now.”

Shahin stopped him from pulling away and laid the back of his fingers against Noori’s cheek in a soft caress for a long moment. Only then did he nod and let Noori go.

Stepping backward toward the tent flap, Noori lifted fingers to his cheek, touching the place he’d been caressed. “I will return to you after dusk.”

Shahin kept his eyes on Noori and nodded again in acknowledgment.

Noori watched Shahin until he heard the approach of hooves. Then he hurried through the tent city to Mother’s pavilion, slipping inside after nodding at the guards. He didn’t know what was making his heart pound and head spin more: the amir’s arrival or the sheikh’s reassurance.

#

The
sheikh watched the servant depart, his frown deepening. He reached for his knife, sliding it into his belt, and walked out of the tent to await his visitors.

Qutaibah rode up to Shahin’s tent and dismounted his horse. “My Lord, I beg your hospitality for the evening.”

Numair and Rami standing at his back, Shahin tilted his head, looking over Qutaibah appraisingly and then over the guards who rode with him. “I offer you my hospitality for the evening,” Shahin responded as etiquette demanded. “What brings you to Meda’in Saleh, so far from home?”

Qutaibah rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “There is the matter of a purchase you made from me several long months ago.” He stepped closer and offered a hand in greeting. “We should save our discussion for dinner.”

Shahin’s eyes hardened at Qutaibah’s words, but he woodenly completed their greeting. “Rami will show you to a tent where you may rest. Dinner will be served at the pavilion at dusk, and you will be my guest,” Shahin said, watching Qutaibah carefully.

Qutaibah’s eyes narrowed at the curt tone of the greeting, but he nodded, bowing begrudgingly at the sheikh’s behest. “I will freshen up, and then we can speak of business.”

Shahin bowed as well, watching as Rami led Qutaibah away. “I don’t like this,” he muttered to Numair.

“I will order extra guards at the pavilion,” Numair said.

Shahin nodded. “He only arrived with the four?” Numair nodded and bowed, leaving the sheikh to his thoughts.

#

Qutaibah
entered the tent offered for his use while he remained in Meda’in Saleh. He found a chair and table with a washbasin and a plain pallet, but no other amenities. He asked the servant, “Will I not be offered the use of a pleasure slave? I believe there is one in the sheikh’s service. He goes by the name of Noori. I would like to partake of his services, please.”

The servant, an older man, bowed politely. “Our Lord does not keep pleasure slaves, my lord. However, some of the villagers are happy to offer their hospitality to our guests. May I find one for you?”

Qutaibah’s frown deepened. “I do not desire just any villager. I want the white man. I want Noori.”

The servant bowed again. “I will convey your request to our lord, sir. Noori is a member of his personal household.” With that, the servant escaped quickly.

“Personal household,” Qutaibah mused, a nasty smirk on his face. “Shahin is too kind to his slaves. I believe I shall relieve him of his burden.”

#

“Noori!
Come in! How wonderful that you come to visit this old woman,” Mother said, clearly delighted when he entered her pavilion.

Noori rushed forward, bowing before the lady. “Thank you for having me here, my lady.” He remained bent, eyes focused on the hem of Mother’s robes.

Mother tsked, setting a gentle hand under his chin and tilting up his eyes. “You are welcome here, Noori. Please, do not stand on ceremony. I get my fill of it day in and day out.”

Noori offered a gentle smile as he looked up and met Mother’s eyes. “Thank you for your hospitality, my lady. I appreciate the kindness you show me.”

With a gentle smile, Mother patted his cheek and nodded. “Come; we have another guest for dinner as well.” She turned to walk through the second set of flaps into the inner area of her tent.

Noori followed Mother, folding his hands in front of himself as he stepped into the cooler inner sanctum of the lady’s tent. Taking the seat that Mother motioned him toward, he sat down and waited to greet the other visitor Mother expected.

The padding of little feet caught their attention as little Massarah rushed into the tent. “Mother! Mother! Look what I have!” He carried the carved wooden horse Noori had made for him some months ago.

A wide grin split Noori’s face, and he could not help himself as he held his arms open and sighed, “Massarah.”

Seeing the servant, the boy squealed and ran over to him, jumping into his arms and claiming a hug. “Noori! You came for dinner?” the youngster asked.

“I did, I did!” Noori laughed, wrapping his arms tightly around Massarah’s small frame. “I have missed you!” Noori chuckled and rocked the small child back and forth. “Where is Sawsan?”

“Sawsan is with the girls,” Massarah said with obvious disgust.

Mother laughed. “She is at her dance lessons this evening.”

Noori blushed as he realized he’d taken Massarah’s attention from his grandmother. He sat the young boy down, reluctant to sever all contact with the adorable child. “She must be bonding with her friends, Massarah. And yet you come to visit the lady? And me? I feel privileged you’d spend time with me.”

Massarah stamped his foot and held up his arms again. “I want to sit with you, Noori,” the boy pouted.